


In the Wake of the Fall

by Introverted_Chaos



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: A-Wings, B-Wings, Battle Scenes, Gen, Imperial Dreadnought, Imperial Officers (Star Wars), Original Characters - Freeform, Original Star Wars Characters - Freeform, Original Star Wars Locale, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Space Battles, Space Combat, Space Pirates, TIE fighters, X-Wings, original lesbian characters, star wars legends - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:29:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22766290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Introverted_Chaos/pseuds/Introverted_Chaos
Summary: A revision of my very first attempt at fan fiction, featuring original Star Wars characters. In the wake of the Galactic Empire's defeat at the Battle of Endor, Imperial Captain Andalla Neos defends her home world against a renegade ex-Imperial admiral and his pirate allies. Unknown to Andalla and her allied ships, help is coming in the form of a New Republic task force. Takes place in the Star Wars Legends universe, sometime between Return of the Jedi and the Grand Admiral Thrawn trilogy. Heavily inspired by the X-Wing and TIE Fighter computer games.
Relationships: Original Character(s) - Relationship
Kudos: 3





	In the Wake of the Fall

Captain Andalla Neos of the Imperial Dreadnought _Grey Templar_ stared out the bridge window, praying to whatever gods or omnipresent ‘forces’ or whatever ran the universe for some sign that her life and career and sacrifices had had _some_ kind of meaning. She just wanted one small indication that she’d accomplished something that was worthwhile to the indifferent galaxy.

Andalla sighed, gazing down on her home world, Amaran VI, far below. The Empire she’d proudly served for over twenty years was no more, as was the Republic she’d served for eight years before it. A fledgling New Republic had already sprung up in the Empire’s place, but it was busy consolidating its hold of the Core Worlds, and it could be years before they looked toward the Outer Rim sectors.

Years to late so save Amaran VI.

In the wake of the Empire’s fall, a renegade ex-Imperial admiral named Dasivan had arrived with his task group of seven _Strike-_ Class medium cruisers and various support ships, deciding to carve out his own little empire here on the Outer Rim. He’d started by uniting or absorbing various pirate factions throughout this sector, funding and equipping them as privateers against the local Imperial governor. Two weeks ago they’d scored a decisive victory, luring the sector fleet into an ambush and destroying their flagship, the _Victory_ -Class Star Destroyer _Centurion_ along with most of their remaining capital warships.

The battle replayed itself in Andalla’s mind every time she closed her eyes. Catching the fleet off guard, Dasivan and his pirate allies had trapped the Imperials against the asteroid ring around the planet Virtol III. Andalla remembered watching helplessly as the pirates kept the rest of the Imperial warships busy while four Strike Cruisers ganged up on the flagship. Burning and out of control, the _Centurion_ tumbled into the asteroids, pummeled into oblivion with Andalla’s two sons and thousands of other loyal soldiers, crewmen, and officers on board. The wake of its destruction saw the deaths of the Escort Carrier _Wolfpack_ , the _Carrack-_ Class light cruiser _Dragon’s Bane_ , the Escort Frigates _Amaran’s Vigil_ and _Pride of Tamanra_ , the _Grey Templar’s_ sister Dreadnought _Dark Crusader_ , four of the six-frigate _Red Knight_ Lancer squadron, as well as a half-dozen corvettes and dozens of TIEs and other support ships.

With the _Centurion’s_ destruction, Andalla had rallied the remaining ships into a fighting withdrawal, rescuing the remaining capital- and support ships. The _Grey Templar_ covered their retreat until everyone made it into hyperspace, collecting as many TIEs as they could before making their own escape.

Though the regional governor had ordered the remaining ships to return to the capital, Andalla and her taskforce had instead chosen to make their last stand over Amaran VI. The capital had full planetary shield-generators, nearly thirty fighter squadrons, orbital battle-stations, surface-based anti-ship defenses, and domestic food production, allowing it to weather any siege pretty much indefinitely. No, Amaran VI was the next logical world on Dasivan’s road to conquest. It was a mining and agricultural planet with its own orbital starship repair facilities—just what Dasivan needed to repair and resupply his fleet.

It was also home to Andalla’s two daughters-in-law and their children. Her sons were now dead. Her wife died of a cancer six years back. And her daughter died four years ago, murdered by pirates after falling in love and running off with a known Rebel-sympathizer. On that vulnerable planet below lived the only family Andalla had left, and she’d made sure to travel to the surface to visit them one last time.

Damned if she was going to give up her home without a hell of a fight.

“Captain, we have a status update from Colonel T’nashi,” Lieutenant Akell reported.

“Bring her up,” Andalla ordered, turning to the holo display. The Togorian colonel appeared on the display a moment later.

“All is in readiness, Captain,” T’nashi informed her, baring those sharp teeth in her people’s approximation of a predatory grin. She wore slate-grey commando armor instead of her usual olive uniform. “Should your fleet fall, my soldiers stand ready to make the enemy’s occupation very costly.”

“And I know you will, old friend,” Andalla smiled. “I wish I could be there to see it.”

“Perhaps yet,” T’nashi offered. “You are certain you do not wish support from our ground-based fighters?”

“Thank you, but no,” Andalla assured her. “I’m sure you can make better use of them as air support for your ground troops. We’ll make do with the orbital squadrons and the TIEs remaining from Virtol III.”

“As you will,” T’nashi nodded. “Good hunting.”

“And you,” Andalla nodded in return.

She sighed as she signed off, turning back to the bridge viewport. They were as ready as they were going to be, she agreed. Working overtime, they’d resupplied their fleet and repaired everything that could be repaired. The sub-light engines on the Escort Frigate _Gladius_ couldn’t be fixed, so they’d towed it in among the orbital defenses to use as a stationary gun platform and TIE base. _Lancer_ -Class Frigates _Red Knight II_ and _Red Knight V_ were fully operational, as were Bulk Cruiser _Geonosian Gladiatrix_ , Star Galleon _Defender of Kron_ , Carrack Cruiser _Menacer_ , and Escort Frigate _Falconet_. In addition they had eight full- or partial squadrons of orbital- and ship-based TIEs, seven older _Raider_ -Class corvettes, over two dozen armed shuttles and customs ships, and thirty-odd independent armed freighters whose captains volunteered to defend their homes. All in all it was a moderately formidable—if hodge-podge—fleet.

Once repairs were finished, Andalla had ordered the orbital repair, supply, and construction platforms scuttled, dragging them from orbit and submerging them in Amaran IV’s largest ocean. All of the retrieval and heavy-lifting equipment for fishing them back out was then loaded in the _Grey Templar’s_ cargo hold, preventing Admiral Dasivan from using them once the _Templar_ was destroyed.

Andalla knew it was a stalling tactic; Dasivan could get new heavy-lifting equipment from any number of places. But anything they could do to hinder the arrogant Hutt-spawn gave others a better chance to oppose him.

“Captain! We have contacts!” an ensign spoke up suddenly. “Nearly a hundred ships of varying sizes. Mostly fighters and armed freighters.”

“I see them,” she nodded, turning to the display. “They’re missing a Strike Cruiser,” she observed, counting just six.

“We must have hit the _Acrimonious_ harder than we realized on our way out,” Lieutenant Akell commented.

“Ensign Olsil, send out a general distress call,” Andalla ordered. “I don’t expect anyone to respond, but I want the whole sector to know that we’re under attack and what our opposition is.”

“Captain, we’re being hailed by Admiral Dasivan,” another comm officer reported.

“Put him on,” Andalla ordered. “Broadcast to the rest of the fleet.”

“Hello, Captain,” Dasivan’s holo greeted mildly in that crisp, inner-rim accent of his.

“Admiral,” she replied.

“I don’t suppose there’s anything I could say to convince you to surrender.”

“I can’t think of what it might be,” she agreed.

“I don’t see your orbital facilities,” he commented, “nor do I detect debris from having destroyed them. Scuttled?”

“Deep-sixed,” she confirmed.

“I’m not surprised. And you of course loaded the lifting equipment to retrieve them aboard your Dreadnought.”

“Of course,” Andalla said, trying not to be rattled by how well he seemed to anticipate her.

“I’d suspected. Thankfully I’m in the process of having my people acquire replacement equipment,” he told her. “It should arrive within a few days.”

“How foresightful of you.”

“You must realize you’re merely delaying the inevitable,” Dasivan shook his head. “The Empire is dying—nearly dead, in fact. You’re sacrificing yourself and your crews to save a dying way of life.”

“With due respect, Admiral, we’re doing nothing of the sort,” Andalla disagreed. “Saving a dying empire that mostly ignored us to begin with has nothing to do with it. Every soldier and crewmember aboard every ship in my fleet has family and loved ones on the planets you intend to pillage and enslave—or on planets you already have. Every hour we buy them and every hired thug and raider we take with us improves their chances of survival. You kill my sons and then threaten my home? I suggest you go skrog a Kowakian monkey-lizard, Admiral. For your sake I hope you can find one with very low standards,” she concluded, clicking off the transmission.

A cheer went up among her bridge crew, while the coms lit up with similar defiant taunts from the defending ships. In the distance the enemy fleet fanned out in an enclosure formation.

“All ships accelerate to attack speed,” she ordered. “Bring our capital ships into slugging-range with their fleet, then begin a fighting withdrawal. See if we can’t disrupt their formation a bit before coaxing them into range of our orbital defenses. For now order our allied freighters and TIEs to cover the capital ships and watch for targets of opportunity.”

“Relaying orders now, Captain,” a com officer replied.

“He’s keeping his Strike Cruisers back,” Akell commented from beside her.

“I suspected he might,” Andella nodded, watching the enemy pirates and lighter ships race ahead of the cruisers. “He’s short one cruiser because of us, so I doubt he can afford to let us put another out of commission. He’ll let his allies run interference and soften us up before moving in for the kill. Even if we punch through his lines, those six cruisers and their TIEs can take our entire fleet by themselves.”

“So he’s sending the pawns in first,” Akell nodded.

“I’ve heard he’s a hell of a dejarik player,” Andella agreed. “ _Gladiatrix_ , _Falconet_ , converge on the incoming pirate Carrack,” she ordered, watching the Livid Rancor pirates rush ahead of the others. “Looks like Lady Reaver wants first share the glory—let’s send her out in a fiery blaze of it. Squash her between the hammer and anvil. Tau Squadron, keep the Rancors’ fighters and freighters busy while they deal with the Carrack. _Red Knight V_ , stand ready to intercept any ships that make it through the pincer.”

Acknowledgements sounded over the com as the ships moved to comply. Claiming Mandalorean descent, Lady Reaver was an old nemesis whose aggressive tactics had nearly cost Andalla her career on two occasions. The _Geonosian Gladiatrix_ went low while the _Falconet_ maneuvered high and to starboard, converging fire on the over-enthusiastic Carrack cruiser. Tau Squadron’s TIEs spread out to engage the Rancors’ fighters and support ships.

Apparently realizing her overconfidence, Reaver cut high and to starboard, attempting to maneuver out of the pincer. The Nebulon-B and Bulk Cruiser pummeled the Carrack’s shields mercilessly, and Andella saw the light cruiser’s engines flicker as the crew diverted power to the shields.

“Pirate corvettes and gunships maneuvering to support the Livid Rancors,” _or take advantage of the distraction they caused_ , Andalla reflected. “Move to intercept,” she ordered her bridge crew. “Alpha Squadron, disrupt those Y-Wings screening the _Crusader-_ class gunship. Captain Hespal, take two or three of your freighters and follow in the TIEs’ wake, pick off any stragglers.”

The Twi’lek freighter captain gave his usual snickering acknowledgement even as the _Grey Templar_ maneuvered to port, rotating slightly starboard to give her dorsal turbolasers better field of fire against the oncoming pirates. Along with cutting off the pirates’ efforts to rescue the overwhelmed Livid Rancors, the maneuver had the secondary benefit of cutting off the Rancors’ escape. Ahead of the _Templar_ , Alpha’s TIEs swarmed in to intercept the pirate Y-Wings. The Dreadnought’s cannons hammered at the pirate Crusader and the other smaller pirate gunships and freighters, keeping them from swatting the TIEs away. Behind the TIEs, Hespal’s three heavy freighters swept in to engage the pirates.

“Carrack is down!” Captain Corvis of the _Falconet_ reported over the coms.

Andalla grinned at the rear display as the Livid Rancors’ flagship broke apart from the frigate and cruiser’s concentrated fire.

“Perfect, excellent work,” she acknowledged. “Tau Squadron, mop up any of Reaver’s remaining ships, then move to support _Defender of Kron_. _Falconet_ , take _Red Knight II_ and _Menacer_ and intercept that cluster of fighters and freighters led by that _Vigil_ -Class corvette. _Gladiatrix_ , join _Kron_ in dealing with that pirate Nebulon-B and its escorts.”

“Is that the _Pride of Tamanra_?” Akell asked, frowning at the display.

“I think so, yes,” Andalla nodded, grimacing as one of Alpha Squadron’s TIEs took hits from a pirate freighter’s quad-lasers. The fighter’s solar panel shattered, pieces of it collapsing inward to crush the cockpit. “The Void Demon pirates must have captured _Pride_ in better shape than we expected if they’ve got her running again already.”

Ahead the _Templar’s_ turbolasers pummeled the pirate Crusader’s forward shields. Led by a _Raider_ -Class corvette, seven civilian freighters and three assault shuttles swept over the _Templar_ to dive upon the Crusader’s escorts, using the Dreadnought’s bulk to cover their approach. Blaster cannons blazed as the Imperials’ smaller ships engaged the pirate support ships. Escorts occupied, the _Templar’s_ turbolasers and ion cannons sundered the Crusader’s shields. The following salvo gouged fiery holes in the gunship’s armor, leaving it drifting in space as its weapons went silent.

“Keep hammering at them,” Andalla ordered her fleet. “Let our support ships keep their support ships distracted and force their lead ships to fight our capital ships.”

Ships of all types and sizes swarmed in as the bulk of the enemy fleet surrounded them. There was no escape now, had escape been the Imperials’ goal.

“ _Gladiatrix_ is pinned down by the Nebulon-B’s escorts, and _Defender of Kron_ is reporting forty-percent shields,” an ensign relayed.

“Tau Squadron, flank the frigate’s escorts. Bridge crew, maneuver us to give _Pride of Tamanra_ the burial she deserved,” Andalla ordered. As _Pride’s_ original commanding officer, Andalla would be damned before letting Dasivan’s thugs keep it. She’d be damned before rolling over and letting Dasivan’s thugs keep _anything_.

* * *

* * *

“Sorry we’re late, Wing Commander—” Flight Officer P’iln began before Rhiena cut him off with a glare as they jogged across the _Hawkhaven’s_ cavernous hanger to their fighters.

“Stow it,” Rhiena told him and Flight Officer Lira. “Not my fault you two idiots can’t stay out of each other’s pants even when we’re on high alert. Get to your X-Wings; we need to be off the deck in two minutes. _Go_! We’ll discuss your nerf- _shavit_ antics later.”

_Morons_ , she gritted her teeth as she mounted the ladder and hopped into the seat of her B-Wing. Around her, X-Wings from the Recluse and Bayonet Squadrons and B-Wings from her Phalanx Squadron lifted off the carrier’s deck.

“Everything’s warmed-up and green, Commander,” Lieutenant Rinmak assured her as one of the techs handed Rhiena her helmet. “Give ‘em hell for us,” he saluted.

Strapping her helmet into place, Rhiena gave them the thumbs up as her canopy lowered and sealed. Once the flight crew was safely away, she engaged the repulsors to lift her B-Wing off the deck. Firing up her engines, she joined the last of _Hawkhaven’s_ fighters on their way out of the cruiser-carrier’s hanger.

Once within the familiar vacuum of space, Rhiena glanced at her sensors to verify if everyone was in place. In addition to their carrier, the taskforce consisted of three huge _Assault_ -Class heavy frigates, four _Nebulon B-_ Class escort frigates, six Corellian DP-20 gunships, and various armed freighters, shuttles, and transports. Their fighter complement consisted of seven full squadrons: three X-Wing, two A-Wing, and two B-Wing.

“This is Phalanx Leader, all squadron leaders report in,” she ordered.

“Recluse Leader, standing by.”

“Wyvern Leader, squadron ready.”

“ _Ikt_ Archangel Leader, _f’nash il iktib_.”

“Fusilier Leader, standing by.”

“Scimitar Leader, reporting in; let’s do this, Commander.”

“Bayonet Leader, reporting in.”

“Admiral, this is Phalanx Leader. All squadrons ready,” Rhiena reported.

“Thank you, Commander. All ships report readiness,” Admiral Tre’al addressed his taskforce in his gruff, Bothan accent. “For those who don’t know yet, we’ve picked up a distress call from an Imperial defense fleet under assault by the renegade Imperial admiral and his pirate allies. Though our diplomats are still in negotiations with the local Imperial systems, we’ve been given the go-ahead to respond to the call. I want to make clear that the defending Imperials _do not know_ about the negotiations and may react hostilely to our arrival. All ships, _do not engage the defenders unless given the order._

“The attacking force consists of six or seven Strike cruisers, over two-dozen smaller capital ships, and seventy to a hundred other armed vessels, both pirate and Imperial,” the admiral continued. “In a slug-fest to the death, I realize we’re still outmatched and outnumbered, so our strategy will be to convince the enemy to cut their losses and withdraw. Individual orders will come upon arrival.”

The go-ahead to jump to light speed came moments later. Rhiena took a deep breath as she pulled the hyperspace levers and watched the familiar mottled sky beyond the transparisteel. She looked over at the three flimsiplast holos tucked into the trim on her B-Wing’s canopy.

The first was a picture of her parents, less than a year before her mother died. Beside it was one of Rhiena with her two brothers, all three of them in their Imperial military uniforms. It was the last time all three of them were together before she went AWOL with her girlfriend and defected to the Alliance. Not for the first time, she wondered what they’d all think of her now. Would they be ashamed of her for faking her death to betray the Empire their family had served with such distinction? Or would they be proud of her for the battles she’d fought and the people she’d protected?

The last holo was Rhiena’s wedding portrait, standing beside her wife Ikara and their two daughters, back on Ukio. After losing her girlfriend and two boyfriends to this war with the Empire, Rhiena had vowed never again to fall in love with anyone from the New Republic’s military. Instead she’d married a handsome, strong, hardworking farm widow from an agricultural world far away from the fighting.

Rhiena met Ikara while on leave shortly after Ukio’s joining of the Republic. She’d been part of a good-will showcase sent by Admiral Drayson to display the Republic’s fancy new hardware to its new allies. They’d sent a pair of Assault Frigates and a Mon Calamari Heavy Cruiser complete with X-Wing and B-Wing escorts to wow the locals with their peacekeeping prowess.

After a week of pomp and pageantry, ostentatious dinners, and being schmoozed up to by overdressed landowners and government officials, Rhiena and some of her colleagues used their leave time to attend a harvest fair at one of the rural townships. It was a modest but pleasant little affair with games, carnival rides, live music, and local foods to sample. Despite being in their civvies, Rhiena and her colleagues were recognized as visitors from the New Republic and given the celebrity treatment. They answered questions, signed autographs, kissed babies, posed for holos, and even gave a few recruitment spiels for some of the locals.

At a dance later that evening, Rhiena found herself partnered with this tall, bronze-skinned, brawny human farm widow in a sleeveless light-blue dress. Taken in by Ikara’s honest smile, easy laughter, dark freckles, and broad shoulders, Rhiena asked her out for drinks afterward.

After drinks they’d gotten a hotel room together. They’d made love well into the night and twice again when they woke the next morning.

Though Rhiena’s duties soon took her back off-world, she kept in touch with Ikara and came back to visit every chance she got. They’d married a little over a year ago and celebrated their first anniversary a few days before Rhiena’s latest deployment.

A part of Rhiena wanted badly to be back with her wife and girls. But at the same time they were the reason she continued to fight. Though the Empire was dying, there were still threats out there like this Admiral Dasivan. There were still worlds out there being threatened like Amaran VI. And on those worlds lived people like Ikara—good people whose farms and businesses and homes and families might be lost to someone else’s greed and tyranny.

And so she kept on fighting. Despite her homesickness and despite that she could retire with honors and a healthy officer’s pension anytime she wanted, Rhiena kept on flying her B-Wing and commanding her pilots.

Rhiena exhaled as the hyperspace timer counted down to thirty seconds.

_Twenty-nine… twenty-eight… twenty-seven…_

* * *

* * *

“Captain, the _Pride of Tamanra_ is down,” Ensign Karoby reported, sounding tired but satisfied. His cousin had been a TIE mechanic killed aboard _Pride_ , and Andalla could hear his relief knowing she’d been avenged.

“Captain, _Defender of Kron_ is pinned down by pirate frigates, requesting assistance,” another officer reported.

“ _Red Knight V_ reports fifteen-percent shields, requesting permission to disengage.”

“Tell Captain Pan’tisha permission granted to disengage. Recharge shields as best she can, then join _Gladiatrix_ in covering _Falconet’s_ withdrawal,” Andalla ordered. “Beta Squadron, screen the _Templar_ while we move to support _Defender of Kron_. All ships, begin a fighting withdrawal, try to draw them back into range of the orbital and planetary defenses,” she added, deciding that they’d disrupted the enemy formation enough.

Beta Squadron’s bombers roared past as the _Templar_ shifted to rescue _Defender of Kron_. On the squadron commander’s order, they loosed concussion missiles on the _Defender’s_ assailants. Andalla smiled with grim satisfaction as a large explosion rocked one of the enemy corvettes, sending it drifting off course. The bombers then scattered, engaging one-on-one with the pirate fighters and freighters. Moments later the _Templar’s_ turbolazers and ion cannons opened up on the pirates. Rising above the skirmish, Andalla let the Dreadnought’s ventral batteries hammer at the pirates while their light guns targeted the smaller ships dogfighting with Beta’s TIEs. On her display, Andalla watched first two then three of the enemy warships fall to _Grey Templar’s_ concentrated fire.

“Thank you, Captain, getting clear now,” Captain Korman acknowledged as the Star Galleon turned to retreat.

“Keep them covered until they’re fully disengaged, then move to follow,” Andalla ordered.

Ahead of them, the Imperial defenders kept up their fighting withdrawal, retreating for a short distance, then turning back around to cover their allies’ retreats before retreating again and letting their allies cover them. It was the same bounding over-watch tactic they’d deployed during the retreat from Virtol III. And clearly the pirates hadn’t learned how to disrupt this yet.

“Captain! Incoming enemy TIEs!” Beta Leader reported suddenly.

“Beta Squadron, get out of there!” Andalla ordered, grimacing as two squadrons of TIE Interceptors threaded through the pirate vessels to pounce on the bombers. One by one, Beta Squadron’s fighters winked out on the display as the faster, agile interceptors cut them to pieces.

“Beta Squadron is gone, Captain,” Ensign Karoby reported softly into the bridge’s sudden stillness.

“Captain, enemy TIE Bombers vectoring straight toward us, and it looks like the enemy Strike Cruisers are moving to engage as well,” Lieutenant Enarion reported from his command station.

“ _Son of a Sith_ ,” Andalla fumed, rubbing her temples.

So Dasivan had outguessed her once again. Assuming Dasivan wouldn’t risk his cruisers, TIEs, and support ships until he was ready to deal the killing blow, Andalla had opted to leave the protection of the orbital defenses to disrupt the pirates’ formation and maximize enemy casualties before drawing the attackers back into range.

Clearly Dasivan had anticipated this and fooled her into thinking her plan was working before making his move. Now the defenders would be at the mercy of the Strike Cruisers and TIEs while still tangled with the attacking pirates.

“ _Red Knight II_ , we have incoming TIE Bombers. Get back here and swat them away for us. We’ll cover you,” Andalla ordered, knowing that the Lancer Frigate would never get back in time to disrupt the bombers’ opening salvo.

“Enemy torpedoes away,” an ensign reported.

Andalla closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she turned away from her display. Moments later the rear shields flickered, unable to keep up with the damage inflicted by the enemy bombers. The _Grey Templar_ shuddered as multiple torpedoes impacted the aft sections of the ship.

“Captain, three enemy Strike Cruisers are vectoring straight toward us and a forth is moving to intercept _Red Knight II_ ,” Akell reported.

“Belay that last order, _Red Knight II_ ,” Andalla ordered. “Continue the withdrawal; we’ll hold them here as long as we can.”

“Acknowledged, _Templar_ , good luck,” Captain Uxert came back. On her display, the Lancer pulled off its attack to rejoin the remaining defenders.

“Bring us about,” Andalla ordered her bridge crew. “Let’s see if we can at least take one of their cruisers with us.”

The view of the battlefield shifted outside their viewport as the _Templar_ turned to meet the oncoming Strike Cruisers. The Dreadnought’s turbolazers blazed against the oncoming pirates, even as the enemy TIE Bombers battered at _Templar’s_ shields and the lead Strike Cruiser opened up with its turbolazers.

“Captain, new contacts coming out of hyperspace!” one of the sensor officers reported. “They’re registering as… New Republic…” he added, trailing off.

“I see them,” Andalla frowned, staring at her display before looking back up through the bridge viewport. It looked like three Assault Frigates, a carrier, several smaller capital ships, and various fighters and support ships.

“Captain, we’re being hailed by the Republic fleet,” a comm officer reported.

“I’ll talk to them,” Andalla agreed. Through the viewport, some of the enemy ships continued to hammer at the _Templar’s_ shields, but many of them turned to meet the new arrivals.

“This is Captain Andalla Neos of Imperial Dreadnought _Grey Templar_ ,” Andalla identified herself. “To what do I owe the New Republic’s unexpected arrival?”

“This is Admiral Kalyik Tre’al of the New Republic Cruiser-Carrier _Hawkhaven_ ,” a Bothan-sounding voice replied. “We picked up your distress signal, Captain, and we ask your permission to assist.”

_Maybe the universe cares after all_ , Andalla smiled tightly to herself. “Your arrival raises a lot of questions for me, Admiral, but I suspect they can wait until later. As I’m not one to turn down offers for help, please feel free to assist.”

“Thank you, Captain. I look forward to answering your questions after the battle,” Admiral Tre’al told her, a bit wryly.

“All ships come about!” Andalla ordered. Ahead the pirates scrambled to react to the new threat. All four incoming Strike Cruisers broke off their attack. “Accelerate to attack speed and move to assist our new allies!”

A cheer went up among the bridge crew at the order.

* * *

* * *

“S-foils in attack position,” Rhiena ordered her X-Wings and B-Wings as her fighters accelerated to attack speed. “Archangel Squadron, Scimitar Squadron, do what you do best and disrupt the enemy fighters,” she ordered the A-Wings. “Bayonet and Wyvern, focus on the enemy freighters and support ships so our support ships don’t have to. Recluse Squadron, cover the B-Wings so we can focus on their larger ships. All fighters, _unleash hell_!”

Acknowledgements met her orders as her s-foils locked into position. As ordered, the A-Wings blasted their way ahead of the pack, engaging the lead enemy TIEs and pirate fighters.

“Phalanx Four and Seven, converge on me,” Rhiena ordered, blasting her triple lasers at an incoming TIE. “Set ion cannons and prepare to hit that nearest enemy frigate. Three and Five, come along in our wake with your torpedoes. Recluse Three and Six, keep any fighters off of us while we make our run.”

Switching to ion cannons, Rhiena skirted beneath an exploding pirate corvette to cover their approach on the target Nebulon-B Frigate. The move bought her several seconds as the frigate struggled to bring its guns to bear on her formation. Weaving and dodging, Rhiena opened up with ions to pound away at the shields, even as a pair of Corellian gunships added to the B-Wings’ assault. Her computer whistled a warning for an oncoming concussion missile. Rhiena adjusted course just long enough to swat the missile away before turning to pummel the frigate’s port shields. Blue ion beams flashed by her as Four and Seven added to the ion bombardment.

The frigate’s fore section flashed by her as they continued to eat up the starboard shield power. In her peripheral vision she noticed Recluse Six light up an enemy squint that had been maneuvering to disrupt the B-Wings. Rhiena watched the frigate’s shield percentage decline as her group walked their ion beams down the frigate’s neck.

“Shields less than five percent,” she reported to her squad. “Three, Five, hit it now! Target their shield generators.”

Phalanx Three and Five unloaded four torpedoes apiece before swapping to cannons. The ion barrage disrupting their shields and sensors, the frigate’s gun crews never had the chance to target the incoming torpedoes. In her aft display Rhiena saw all eight torpedoes impact the frigate’s shield generators, followed by cannon fire from both B-Wings.

“Frigate’s shields are down,” Phalanx Three reported.

“Thanks, Phalanx Leader, we’ll take it from here,” Captain Erbin of the Corellian Gunship _Gundark Tamer_ acknowledged. In her display, Rhiena watched the two gunships move to finish off the wounded frigate.

“This is Two; I’ve taken a missile hit!” one of Archangel Squadron’s A-Wings shouted over the comm. “Ejecting now!”

“Computer, make a note of Angel Two’s position,” Rhiena keyed the command as the A-Wing blinked out on her display. She grimaced in frustration and opened up her laser cannons on a pirate freighter. “Make sure we feed the info to the rescue shuttles after the battle.”

Her barrage knocked out the freighter’s shields and tore gouges in its armor and hull plating. A blast must have hit something vital as an explosion rocked the pirate and sent it tumbling away from the battle.

Rhiena took quick stock of her displays as she pulled away from the crippled freighter. Ahead of her, Assault Frigate _Dodonna’s Reprisal_ slugged it out with one of the enemy Strike Cruisers while a second cruiser moved to support the first.

“Phalanx Leader, direct some of your fighters to assist frigate _Heart of Talos_ in aiding _Reprisal_ ,” Commander Mirako ordered from _Hawkhaven’s_ bridge.

“Already on it, Commander,” Rhiena acknowledged. “Phalanx Five and Eleven and Fusilier Four, Five, and Seven, all of you form up on me,” she ordered. “Archangel Five and Wyverns Three, Ten, and Twelve, run interference for us while we take a shot at that incoming Strike Cruiser. Let’s see if we can take some of its attention off of _Reprisal_.”

The A-Wing and three X-Wings acknowledged and formed up to run interference. Rushing ahead of the B-Wings, the screeners took shots at oncoming TIEs and pirate fighters. Readying torpedoes, the B-Wings vectored toward the second Strike Cruiser.

“This is Wyvern Ten: shields down, I’m hit!” came over the comm. Rhiena grimaced as the X-Wing ignited and spun out of control ahead of her. She saw an s-foil tear off as she passed, but she also saw the Duros pilot eject from the burning craft.

“Mark Wyvern Ten’s location,” she ordered her computer.

The targeting computer buzzed for a positive lock a couple seconds after their formation entered missile range. “Torpedoes away!” Rhiena ordered, triggering four missiles. Ahead of her, Wyverns Three and Twelve added torpedoes of their own to the B-Wings’ barrage.

Twenty-odd missiles slashed through the empty space to strike the cruiser’s port shielding. The A-Wing, X-Wings, and B-Wings followed up with a hail of laser- and ion blasts. Behind the fighters, Nebulon-B frigate _Talos_ opened up with turbolasers and ion cannons.

“Port shields are down!” Archangel Five hooted a moment later, twisting her A-Wing out and away as the cruiser attempted to return fire.

Rhiena ducked her B-Wing beneath the tracking fire as the Strike Cruiser rotated its unshielded portside away from the Assault Frigate’s heavy turbolasers.

“Come around for another pass,” Rhiena ordered her task group as they pulled away from the return fire. On her aft display, _Talos_ kept up its barrage on the cruiser’s port. “Let’s see how much of their armor we can peel away before they get that shield back up.”

“I’ve got one on me!” Fusilier Seven reported in a panicked tone. “I–I can’t shake him!”

“I’m coming, Seven,” Rhiena assured him, wrenching her B-Wing hard to starboard in effort to get a bead on the enemy TIE. “Group, I see a couple pirates vectoring in,” she added, spotting armed freighters and a light corvette moving to assist the Strike Cruiser. “Intercept while I deal with this eyeball.”

Despite having to slow down to keep from overshooting Seven’s B-Wing, the TIE pilot was good, evading Rhiena’s shots even while scoring hits on Seven’s aft shield. Her fourth salvo managed to clip the starboard solar panel, forcing the eyeball to pull off.

Three blasts hit Rhiena’s aft shielding and a fourth flashed by her cockpit, warning that she’d picked up an interceptor.

“I’ve got a squint on me,” she warned, juking hard to port and attempting to twist out of its line of fire.

“Coming, Lead!” Phalanx Five acknowledged, though Rhiena could see on her scanners he was still well outside cannon range.

_C’mon, come on_ , she grimaced as the squint’s fire ate her shields from yellow to orange to red.

Pulling up, Rhiena blinked as a concussion missile flashed almost directly at her, then straight past to impact the center of the interceptor’s cockpit. Rhiena blinked a couple more times as a TIE Bomber ahead of her waggled its wings in acknowledgement before pulling away.

Around her the defenders’ TIEs mixed it up with the enemy TIEs and pirates. Rhiena blinked again and shook her head, making a mental note to review the battle footage in order to find out which Imperial pilot just saved her and buy them a drink later.

“All pilots, we’ve got friendly TIEs in our midst,” Rhiena reminded her fighter wing. “Remember to double-check your target identification and refrain from blowing up any of our new friends.”

* * *

* * *

“Hit ‘em where it hurts,” Andalla told her task force as they smashed their way through the pirate offal to group up with the Republic warships.

_Red Knights II_ and _V_ led the charge, ahead and to the _Grey Templar’s_ port and starboard. The rest of the ships formed up in a wedge behind _Templar_ , their remaining TIEs and support ships flitting between the larger ships to respond to fighter threats that had gotten through the Lancers’ screen.

Having never seen _Assault_ -Class frigates in action before, Andalla was truly impressed with the amount of firepower they were throwing around. The Republic fighter pilots were skilled, too, and had an excellent command staff, based on the comm chatter they were hearing.

“ _Red Knights_ and remaining TIEs, cruise ahead and help our Republic friends deal with the enemy fighters and freighters,” Andalla ordered. “ _Kron_ , _Gladiatrix_ , and _Falconet_ , form up on the _Templar_. We’ll focus these Strike Cruisers one at a time while they’re slugging it out with the Reps. The rest of you, split up and engage the remaining pirates.”

A chorus of enthusiastic acknowledgements met her orders.

Up ahead, Dasivan’s Strike Cruisers paired off against the Republic’s heavy frigates, and Andalla could see the Republic’s ships were only barely holding their own. It was time to change those odds before the pirates got their acts together enough to overwhelm the Republic’s capital ships.

“Task group one, spread out to flank Cruiser _Tempestuous_. Hit ‘em with everything we’ve got while they’re focused on the Reps,” Andalla ordered.

At the order, _Defender of Kron_ and _Falconet_ maneuvered high and _Geonosian Gladiatrix_ swooped low and to starboard while _Grey Templar_ plowed ahead, slightly to port. All four capital ships focused their fire on the suddenly outnumbered Strike Cruiser. The Imperials’ turbolaser and ion batteries hammered away at _Tempestuous’s_ aft shields while the Assault Frigate pounded it from the front. The concentrated fire collapsed the rear deflectors first; turbolasers tore at the rear armor plating while ion beams spattered disruptive blue energy across the aft sections. The cruiser’s captain made a panicked effort to pull his ship up and out of the pincer.

Moments later, the front shields collapsed as well. The engines shut down from the ion bombardment as sections of the cruiser’s superstructure exploded from turbolaser fire.

Andalla smirked with satisfaction as the _Tempestuous_ broke apart ahead of her. A dozen X-Wings and B-Wings flashed past the Assault Frigate to disperse the cruiser’s remaining support ships.

“Captain, it looks like the remaining pirates and traitors are moving to withdraw,” Lieutenant Enarion reported.

Andalla closed her eyes and exhaled with relief. Dasivan still had enough ships to win the battle, and all of them knew it, but he’d clearly decided such a victory would come at too high a cost.

“Captain, the Republic admiral is hailing us again,” a comm officer reported.

“Put him on,” Andalla nodded. “Admiral,” she hailed a moment later, “I don’t know how I can possibly begin to thank you. Your arrival saved both my fleet and my home world.”

“I just wish I could have arrived sooner,” Admiral Tre’al apologized. “Feel free to regroup your fleet and begin recovery and repairs,” he advised. “My fleet will continue to chase them from the system.”

“That works for me, Admiral,” Andalla agreed. “And afterward, I would very much like to discuss why you’re here—in person, preferably.”

“I look forward to it,” Tre’al replied. “Would you care to meet aboard the _Hawkhaven_? Or would you prefer I come to your ship.”

“As a show of good faith, I’ll get a shuttle ready and meet you aboard your carrier,” Analla decided.

“Very well, see you soon, Captain,” Tre’al told her, signing off.

“Lieutenant Akell, have the hanger prep a shuttle,” Andalla ordered, watching the Republic ships harry Dasivan’s fleet. Outside the viewport, the first of the pirate attackers leapt into hyperspace while the remaining Strike Cruisers covered their retreat. “The bridge is yours until I return. Send a message to Colonel T’nashi, tell her to stand-down her forces for the time being, but don’t demobilize just yet. I’ll apprise everyone once I know more about what’s going on.”

* * *

* * *

Andalla listened with relief to the initial salvage and recovery reports as her shuttle neared the _Hawkhaven’s_ massive hanger. The last of Dasivan’s ships had withdrawn while the crews prepped her shuttle, and rescue shuttles from planetside would soon join the Republic and Imperial fleets in scouring the wreckage for survivors. A few stubborn pirate gangs opted to stay and fight to the death, but the Republic’s ships were more than enough to deal with them.

Four of Beta Squadron’s pilots had been recovered alive so far, as had crews from several of the damaged or destroyed allied freighters who’d volunteered to defend Amaran IV. And, given how hopeless the situation had been an hour ago, Andalla was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that _any_ of them were still alive.

“Two more disabled pirate warships have offered up information in exchange for amnesty and medical attention,” Lieutenant Enarion reported, listening to his headset while reviewing his datapad. “But for the most part, the surviving pirates seem more eager to surrender to the New Reps than to us.”

“The Republic has a more merciful reputation for dealing with pirates than the Empire does,” Andalla acknowledged. “Give the Reps a few more years of dealing with pirates on a daily basis, and they may change their policy on that. And make sure Major Varis and his boarding parties keep in mind that we might be sharing intel we recover with our allies, depending on how this discussion with the Republic admiral goes,” she added.

“Relaying now, Captain,” the lieutenant nodded.

“Bringing us down, Captain,” the shuttle’s pilot reported. Beneath her, Andalla felt the sub-light engines decelerate and the repulsors kick in as the shuttle settled on the deck of the Republic carrier.

“Thank you, Flight Officer,” she told the pilot as she and the other passengers unclipped their restraints.

Andalla frankly liked what she saw as she, Commander Amler, and Lieutenant Ryll descended the shuttle’s boarding ramp. The _Hawkhaven’s_ massive hanger was clean but not polished—a pleasant contrast to the hyper-regulated tidiness required by the Imperial navy. The hanger and assorted fighters and shuttles were well-maintained, but worn in places. A rust mark here, faded paint there, an exposed conduit due to a missing access panel, a hinged port that had been welded shut because the latch was broken—these were signs of a military that didn’t take its image too seriously.

The _Hawkhaven’s_ fighters seemed to be X-Wings or B-Wings, either parked in rows along the deck or mounted in the fighter racks across the ceiling. There were spaces for shuttles and transports, as well, though Andalla suspected these were currently deployed in rescue and salvage. Like the carrier, the fighters were rugged and well-used. A nearby X-Wing bore several blackened marks and gouges both old and new, with its squadron insignia painted over a scorch mark across the fuselage.

Pilots, techs, mechanics, medics, officers, soldiers, and crew of dozens of races from across the galaxy hurried about in the usual post-battle cleanup. A Talz technician and a Mon Calamari mechanic looked to be analyzing the blackened engine on a damaged X-Wing. A Rodian officer and a pair of human soldiers escorted a cluster of captured pirates from an assault transport. A Twi’lek medic and an older 2-1B droid worked to stabilize an injured Duros pilot. A tiny Chadra-Fan in a tech’s jumpsuit raced across the deck, leaping into the arms of a lanky Twi-lek pilot.

It was a diversity that Andalla found comforting. Where Imperial units from the Core regions tended toward exclusively human, those on the Outer-Rim didn’t have the “luxury” of such xenophobia. As well as their Togorian field-commander, Andalla knew dozens of non-humans in the sector fleet and among the local garrisons. If it came down to allocating the remaining Imperial sector forces with the New Republic’s military, Andalla didn’t foresee issues in that respect.

Used to Imperial fanfare, Andalla was a bit surprised to find the admiral waiting for them with a handful of officers instead of an honor guard. Admiral Tre’al looked to be an older Bothan, stocky and somewhat short with dark-grey fur.

“Admiral, on behalf of myself, my soldiers, my officers, and those we protect, I can’t thank you enough for your intervention,” Andalla spoke up, striding forward and extending her hand.

Admiral Tre’al seemed surprised at her forwardness, but grasped her hand without hesitating. “Thank you for your praise, captain, though once again I apologize for not arriving sooner. We had a bit of a… political hurdle to clear first.”

“What manner of ‘political hurdle’?” Andalla asked, frowning and raising a brow as she released his hand.

“Since it won’t be a secret much longer,” the admiral began, “nearly two-dozen worlds in this sector have secretly collaborated to reach out to the New Republic for protection against Admiral Dasivan’s task force and other pirate groups. As such, our politicians and New Republic Intelligence wished to keep our presence here hidden for the time being. I finally convinced the head diplomat that intervening in your battle with Dasivan would provide an effective demonstration of our ability to offer such protection, hopefully even swaying over some of the worlds that hadn’t reached out thus far.”

“I’d call it a _most_ effective demonstration, admiral,” Andalla assured him, nodding and smirking a bit. The whine of repulsors filled the hanger as two more B-Wings settled on the _Hawkhaven’s_ deck.

“I’m pleased you think so,” Tre’al smirked in return. “And I’m pleased you agreed to meet me in person. Though I can’t promise anything in the long term, I’d like to discuss short-term arrangements for your fleet and soldiers—at least until the politicians finish their closed-doors deliberations.”

“That works for me. Thank you,” Andalla nodded her appreciation.

“One last thing, captain,” Tre’al added, holding up a hand. “Our task force’s Wing Commander has just landed. She’s been helping in the search-and-rescue efforts, but she expressed an interest in meeting you again.”

_Again?_ Andalla frowned and turned to see a stocky pilot in a crimson flight suit descend from one of the B-Wings. As the pilot doffed her helmet, Andalla was nearly certain she was seeing the ghost of her dead wife. The olive skin and dark freckles were nearly identical, as was the wavy, dark, shoulder-length hair. Andalla’s felt her knees shake as the pilot turned and waved with an apprehensive smile eerily similar to the grin Andalla once fell in love with.

“Hey, Mom,” was all the pilot said, nervously running a hand through her hair as she stepped forward.

“Rhiena,” Andalla gasped, rushing to her. She caught her daughter in as big a hug as she could, not caring how unmilitary her tears might look. “Rhiena, they said you were dead.”

“I know,” Rhiena nodded into her shoulder. “I know, and I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you I wasn’t. I had to fake my death to protect all of you. I’m–I’m glad you’re alright, and I heard about what happened to my brothers, and–and I have so much to tell you.”

“I have so much to tell you, too,”Andalla assured her, squeezing tighter.

Maybe, just maybe, the universe cared after all…

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't remember exactly when I started this piece originally, but it may have been as early as 2004 or 2005. I found it partway finished in one of my old folders a while back and decided to revise and finish it. Originally Andalla was just Captain Neos, a widowed male Imperial officer who reunites with his estranged Rebel pilot daughter when the New Republic rescues his fleet from pirates and renegade imperials. Neos had lost his wife while Rhiena was married to a Ukio farmboy. Upon revision, both relationships felt very heteronormative to me, prompting me to rewrite Andalla as a widowed lesbian and Rhiena as a bisexual currently married to a farm widow. I've occasionally brainstormed ideas for continuing the characters' battles against Admiral Dasivan's forces, but at the moment I don't plan to do anything more with the story. Regardless, thanks, as always, for reading, folks!


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